


Love in Brooklyn

by chicklette



Series: Popcorn Bucket [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Ficlets, M/M, Multi, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform, tags will update with each post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicklette/pseuds/chicklette
Summary: Remix of John Wakeman's Love in Brooklyn, my lifelong favorite poem.





	Love in Brooklyn

“I love you, Rogers,” he said, and blew his nose. 

Steve splashed his drink. “The hell you say,” he said, and took a furtive look around the bar.

Sally’s was quiet on a Wednesday afternoon. A couple of guys from the docks over in a corner, a few suits with dames, but no one within hearing distance. The air hung heavy with smoke, and now, with things better left unsaid. 

Steve moved closer, turning his face to the bar and speaking low between them.

“Not love. You don’t love me. You like my skinny arms, and you like the way I draw.” Steve nods at the empty glass in Bucky’s hand. “You drunk your drink too fast. You don’t love me.”

“You wanna bet,” Bucky asks. “You wanna bet?” His voice is rising and Steve lays a hand on his wrist, pulling him back down. 

Bucky leans his head toward Steve, his voice a hiss. “I loved you from that day I found outside of Watson’s Deli. You had your back to the wall and blood on your face. You said ‘I can do this all day,’ and then Mikey D’Angelo walloped you one. You spat out the blood, raised your fists and asked if that’s all he had. It made me shake. Like once in the war, I saw a tank slide through some trees at dawn, like it was a god. That’s how you make me feel. I don’t know why.”

Steve looked Bucky over, sat back and grinned. “You think I’m like a tank, you mean? I don’t know, Buck. Some fellers tell me nicer things than that.”

But then he saw Bucky’s face, and touched his arm – his only arm – and softly said, “I’m only kidding you.”

Bucky ordered drinks, the same again, and paid. A broken man, wordless, staring at the floor.

Steve took his hand in his and pressed it hard.

And Bucky’s thick fingers trembled in Steve’s lap.

___________________________________________

Here is the original poem, in all of it’s beauty:

‘Love in Brooklyn,’ John Wakeman

“I love you, Horowitz,” he said, and blew his nose.  
She splashed her drink. “The hell you say,” she said.  
“Not love. You don’t love me. You like my legs,  
and how I make your letters nice and all.  
You drunk your drink too fast. You don’t love me.”

“You wanna bet?” he asked. “You wanna bet?  
I loved you from the day they moved you up  
from Payroll, last July. I watched you, right?  
You sat there on that typing chair you have  
and swung round like a kid. It made me shake.  
Like once, in World War II, I saw a tank  
slide through some trees at dawn like it was a god.  
That’s how you make me feel. I don’t know why.”

She turned towards him, then sat back and grinned,  
and on the bar stool swung full circle round.  
“You think I’m like a tank, you mean?” she asked.  
“Some fellers tell me nicer things than that.”  
But then she saw his face and touched his arm  
and softly said, “I’m only kidding you.”

He ordered drinks, the same again, and paid.  
A fat man, wordless, staring at the floor.  
She took his hand in hers and pressed it hard.  
And his plump fingers trembled in her lap.

**Author's Note:**

> The Popcorn Bucket series is where I'll be putting all of my non-OT3 related ficlets. They will skew to the light and fluffy with the occasional hard bits.
> 
> I am chickalicious on tumblr.


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